


Not Today

by dripping_moonlight



Category: Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda) - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Suicidal Thoughts, lowkey a songfic, originally an lw, part of the bfu au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dripping_moonlight/pseuds/dripping_moonlight
Summary: A few final thoughts before the world comes crashing down? No. Before he comes crashing down onto the world.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Not Today

**Author's Note:**

> Part of an AU that was originally based on bfu but that went off the deep end. Warriors is/was an angel, and his real name is Olivier. Companion fic to Becoming a Legend.

For what would not be the last time, he cursed his wings. The wind around him was ceaseless, dragging him down faster and faster. He couldn't move--not when there was nothing to move against. Just a few moments ago he had been home and now there was nothing. Nothing but the cheerful blue of the mocking sky. Nothing but the heart pounding in his chest. Nothing but his useless wings. Not even his sword at his side. He had dropped that when-

He tried to calm himself, hopeful he'd land in water. It would hurt, the shock being the least of his worries, but it'd give him a better chance at recovering. To try again. _Try again._ Even in what might as well be his dying breath, he didn't think of himself, but of the job he had left unfinished. He should be more selfish, he thought, it might be his last chance to be so, but he couldn't. It was much worse to think of his own situation, the one he was currently barreling down through, to not go into an immediate panic. And he'd be even less useful dead.

This was too much. He tried focusing on his surroundings, to ground himself. Hah, ground himself, as if _he_ hadn't already fated him to do so. It was too little. What could he possibly hold onto now? The water crystallized from the altitude? His last hopes and dreams? Ridiculous. He needed to grow up. 

His descent- his fall. He was _falling_ \--would soon come to a close. It had to be. He had already traveled so long, impossible that he'd have much more time to think. 

Focus, Oli, focus. What had Father taught him? To win. But one could not win against the basic laws of nature, not when your wings were nothing more than a weight to push him further. 

His wings... He tried moving them once more. He knew it wouldn't work, but he had exhausted his already few possibilities. He couldn't scream- that'd be weak _not like he hadn't when_ he _had stepped on his fingers, delivering the final blow_ but he could not breath. No, his wings, his once beautiful wings which had brought him so much attention from cherubs and angels alike, which had catapulted him from private to a top commander in this stupid war. He hadn't thought it, no, that was sacrilegious, but it was His fault, His promise, His lie that brought him to this situation.

Alright, focus now. They had done some training, back when he still believed. He still hoped for an aquatic landing- he had to. Anything less and he might as well already be dead. Guess that was the point.

He fought the wind, his last battle would not be against _him,_ but against the resistance in the atmosphere, he decided. He couldn't give _him_ the pleasure. He took hold of his left leg, bringing it up to his chin. It threatened to slip a few times, but he was nonetheless victorious. At least he could have this trophy. Now the right leg. He curled up further, as far as he could, tucked in his head, and wrapped his arms around his neck. Once upon a time, She had told him about the design flaw in all of them, but especially for humans. She didn't want them feeling too cocky, She had said, and he had accepted it as a feature, not a glaring flaw of Her so-called favorite creation.

He was approaching the ground now, he could feel it in his gut, in the increasing noise from random fauna, in the gentle swishing of water.

Water- glorious water. His greatest tormentor finally here to save him. He still couldn't turn around, but with the renewed hope, he took his wings once more, pushing through the pain to wrap them around his body. It couldn't hurt to have an added layer. 

He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs past their capacity until they ached and more. 

_Three_

Trees began to fill his vision. 

_Two_

The water was so loud.

_One_

Darkness.

It was funny, really, that he had spent so much time imagining his death that it had begun to feel more like a memory, yet here he was, so close to its embrace he might as well stop trying. 

Wet. Cold. Is this how it'd all end? Curled pathetically into the fetal position Her people took before birth. 

He knew what water felt like from the countless trials He had subjected him to, "just in case" He had said, but he knew it was to test something other than lung capacity. To test his resilience. He'd been the first to defect, but He still didn't trust him enough to follow through. Now look at him! Dying at the bottom of lake on the vain hope that He could change life, but instead life had changed Him into one who took pleasure in torturing His own sons.

He was getting lightheaded. He had been down there too long. If he were to make any successful attempt at living, he needed to act now, before it was too late. But the cold of the water had long gone past its initial chill, and now he was too numb to care. The darkness felt good. Finally a rest. He could barely feel the ache in his bones anymore. The ache which had long been following him- punishment from Her? the long years of war? the cold? He couldn't tell. It didn't matter.

Up there it was always too bright, never this dark, this comforting. It hit him. He hadn't felt this in- forever. Complete and utter bliss of not having any duties, of being able to rest without worry, he could get used to it.

And what was the point anyway? He was so tired...He'd been fighting on energy he’d long depleted- why fight longer when the abyss was so welcoming. His wings were already waterlogged, adding to not only his weight, but the weight of his armor as well. It'd be so much easier to just not. Even if he did get out, what would he do? Show up to a town of _humans_ with broken wings and bruises? How would he even ask for help? They had not spoken the same language for centuries--She had made sure of that--it would have been impossible to communicate. No, the bottom of the lake was so much better. He thought _he'd_ pushed him to rock bottom, but it turns out he was digging himself deeper.

He couldn't continue like this. It was now or never. 

He breathed in. 

The water was frigid against his insides, already being rejected for its intrusion to his personal kingdom of air, but he did not care. His vision was already so dark. Just... a little.... more....

"Hey! Listen! The hell were you doing?"

Not tonight then.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're still confused:
> 
> Italics "he" = Legend
> 
> Capital "he" = Demise
> 
> Capital She = Hylia


End file.
